


(let's stop) running from love

by habitualwords



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mutual Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Riding, Shotgunning, Switching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 15:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13504071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/habitualwords/pseuds/habitualwords
Summary: One point where three people meet, held back by their various inhibitions.





	(let's stop) running from love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chanyeolanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chanyeolanda/gifts).



> first of all, to my recipient, i'm sorry you had to wait so long for this! your prompts were all too good, and i couldn't settle on a story line i liked enough. i ended up going with the classic fwb situation, i hope you like it.  
> secondly, thank you so much to the mods for being ever so patient with me and putting this exchange together! i wouldn't have reached this point without the support of the best beta, salma. thank u for being my coupsy. i also wanna say thank you to ezra, rae, shan, iva, namra and generally anyone whose witnessed to my endless whining about this fic. title is from my my my by troye sivan with a general playlist for this fic [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/12166662074/playlist/3WT1PA1xunpca70BPFcGtZ?si=4vZ71M4TT-SJ81c-wOLj2w)!

Mingyu’s been jittery since he woke up, mostly because he'd downed two cups of coffee, despite it being bad for him in general. The real reason he's on edge though, has less to do with an anxiety attack in a cup, and more to do with the fact for the first time in 20 years, he'll be living away from home. Closer to campus. With a stranger.

 

Soonyoung, Mingyu’s childhood friend, had more or less moved into his boyfriend Junhui’s apartment. Soonyoung’s roommate Wonwoo had also moved out and Soonyoung had wanted to sublet his apartment. Mingyu had been looking for one, eager to move out from his parents roof and into his own space. Soonyoung had snorted when Mingyu said that, citing losing the ability to bust a nut anytime you want to as a drawback of sharing your living space. Mingyu thinks it's hypocritical coming from Soonyoung, seeing as he lives with Junhui now, and there are probably no social rules that prevent you from getting off in the apartment you share with your boyfriend. Said boyfriend may even like it. Mingyu digresses.

 

Mingyu only has one problem with the whole arrangement: he doesn’t know who his roommate is, and he hopes said roommate isn’t a dick. Mingyu’s had shit luck with roommates in the past, like the time in sophomore year where his first roommate had been a massive homophobe and his second assignment was unhygienic. Some would say Mingyu criticising someone’s personal hygiene would be hypocritical but he was _bad._ Soonyoung had mentioned his roommates name in passing but Mingyu _cannot_ for the love of him, remember it.

 

When he pushes the door open, there are a pair of shoes in the shoe rack, as well as an open box with more shoes in them. So his roommate is already here. The apartment is quiet though; the only noise that follows Mingyu is that of his suitcase rolling against the tile. He’s not sure which room is meant to be his, but when he ducks into what used to be Soonyoung’s room, he finds it already decorated. There’s an autographed West Side Story poster, and a string of fairy lights, with polaroids clipped to them at intervals. A small pride flag in a mug on his roommate's bedside table. Mingyu breathes out a sigh of relief; at least Soonyoung had listened when Mingyu said he wouldn’t be roommates with anyone straight.

  
Mingyu rolls his bag over to the unoccupied room, closer to the bathroom. He leaves his suitcase on the bed and heads back down to grab the rest of his boxes. The building’s elevator is out of service, but thankfully, the apartment is on the second floor and he doesn’t have that many boxes to carry.

  
  
His boxes are still where he left them; Mingyu's field of vision is limited by the stack of boxes he's holding onto, wobbling dangerously as he makes the trek to his apartment. The pro of being able to carry multiple boxes at one go is that he only makes one trip. The con is that he very much becomes a walking hazard, especially given his predisposition to _occasionally_ trip over air.

  
Everything is fine, right up until he gets to the unit. Mingyu misses his roommate holding the door open and walks straight into him. He crashes, falling onto his ass and sending the boxes all over the place.

  
"I'm so sorry!" His roommate thrills, bending down to pick up the boxes, auburn hair flopping into his eyes and obscuring much of his eyebrows.

  
  
Mingyu watches with furrowed brows, still on his ass.

  
  
"Do you need help?" His roommate asks, offering an arm to Mingyu.

  
  
Mingyu takes it, and pulls himself up, accidentally getting into the strangers space. His roommate blinks several times and Mingyu's gaze drifts down to his defined chest, obvious with the way the sweater he's wearing clings to his toned arms.

  
  
_Fuck_ .

  
In all of Mingyu's college related panicking, he never factored a hot roommate into the equation. Suddenly it's pertinent that he has time to jack off whenever he wants.

  
  
"Kim Mingyu?" His roommate asks, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth.

  
  
"Yeah, that's me," Mingyu says, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans before holding it out for a handshake.

  
  
He's surprised when he's pulled into a hug instead, and a pretty tight one at that.

  
"It's me! Seokmin!" Seokmin looks at him with an expectant smile.

  
  
Mingyu's the kind of person who has a large circle of friends and he's pretty good at remembering their names and faces. The man in front of him, however, doesn’t strike him as familiar; Mingyu _would_ remember if he knew a Seokmin this hot. The only Seokmin he knew was one of his friends in middle school, before he had moved to a different town. _That_ Seokmin had shaggy black hair, with truly atrocious blonde streaks in them, no sense of style whatsoever and a piercing. He also wore glasses all the time, with thick black rims and was a scrawny kid who went along with most of Soonyoung’s pranks and called Mingyu a wimp when he didn’t.

  
  
This Seokmin looks different, with his auburn hair and his wire rimmed glasses, dressed in a manner most would call fashionable. Mingyu calls it art student fashion. He looks nothing like the Seokmin Mingyu remembers, more put together than his memories of middle school Seokmin.

 

Except the Seokmin in front of him has the same smile that the Lee Seokmin Mingyu knew did. Boxy, bright and earnest.

  
  
"Lee Seokmin? From middle school?" Mingyu asks hesitantly.

  
  
Seokmin nods aggressively, smile getting impossibly wider.

  
  
"I can't believe we're meeting each other at college," Seokmin says, helping Mingyu pick up the fallen boxes. "Didn’t know you went to Saint Helena too!"

 

“Oh no, I’m at Grand Valley down the road. Architecture,” Mingyu explains.

 

“Right,” Seokmin laughs. “I’m in performing arts.”

 

“You still do the singing thing?”

 

“I like to think I’m better than I was in middle school, yeah. We should go karaoking, lemme show off my skills a little.”

 

Seokmin carries the boxes in his arms to Mingyu’s room, setting them down. For the briefest moment, Mingyu’s drawn to how his ass looks in his jeans, and he really, _really_ hates Soonyoung.

 

  
"When did you become hot?" Mingyu blurts out, then flushes from embarassment immediately.

 

Seokmin turns around, his smile takes on a bashful edge, eyes curved into crescents even as he licks his lower lip. The juxtaposition of Seokmin’s cute and Seokmin’s sexy is going to give Mingyu a heart attack, and it’s barely been an hour.

  
  
"Figured I've never done a single heterosexual thing in my life, and liked the appeal of being a twunk?" Seokmin shrugs.

  
  
Mingyu's trying not to think about the implications of Seokmin being a) a twunk and b) possibly gay. Which means c) if Mingyu _were_ interested in Seokmin, he’d _definitely_ have a chance. It's not working very well.

  
  
"You're looking good yourself," Seokmin continues, gesturing vaguely at Mingyu.

  
  
Mingyu ducks his head and grins shyly. "Yeah, I guess."

 

“Don’t be modest. You look like you belong on a magazine cover.” Seokmin licks his lips again, jerking a thumb at the door.

 

“I’m gonna go finish decorating my room, and maybe look into groceries, but holler if you need help, yeah?”

 

Mingyu nods, waving dumbly at Seokmin until he leaves the room. Instead of unpacking, he flops onto the mattress and sends a text to Soonyoung. The whole time he’s thinking about Seokmin; Seokmin’s smile, Seokmin’s ass, Seokmin’s voice. It’s only been a day, but he’s _very_ overwhelmed and _definitely_ interested.

 

There’s a voice in his head that sounds a lot like Jihoon calling him a useless homosexual.

 

**↠☾ ☽↞**

 

By the time the first week of classes roll around, Mingyu’s gotten used to being Seokmin’s roommate. Seokmin’s messy, and it occasionally frustrates Mingyu but he’s nowhere as filthy as Mingyu’s sophomore roommate was. Besides, Seokmin makes up by occasionally taking over cooking duties and although he returns from grocery runs with an awful amount of snacks purchased, they rarely run out of food and toilet paper. It’s nice not having to be the one who cooks all the time, and Mingyu appreciates that Seokmin’s mindful of his early classes and late nights. 3 weeks into being roommates, they’ve even pinned down Friday as takeout, beer and Netflix night. Currently they’re on Luke Cage. Soonyoung had dropped by once and called them old marrieds, and the way Seokmin grinned at Soonyoung had made Mingyu feel as if there was a hand wrapped in a fist around his heart.

 

“Hey Mingyu,” Seokmin says, sticking his head around his door.

 

It’s a Friday night, and he’s prepared for Seokmin to ask what food he’s craving. Mingyu pulls an earbud out and raises an eyebrow at Seokmin, looking up from a sketch in progress.

 

“Wanna go to a party?”

 

The expression Mingyu makes has Seokmin laughing.

 

“Come on,” Seokmin wheedles. “It’ll be fun. Jeonghan hyung’s organizing it.”

 

That changes things. Jeonghan is known for throwing _great_ parties, and besides, his assignment isn’t due for another month or so. He knows his lecturer is probably going to reject his proposal a week before the deadline and send Mingyu into a frenzy anyway.

 

“Sure, I guess,”

 

Seokmin shoots finger guns at him and Mingyu smiles. “Dress like you’re gonna bring someone home to fuck!” Seokmin yells, closing the door behind him.

 

Mingyu snorts. He’s not exactly sure how to tell Seokmin there’s only one person he’s interested in and he’s already home. He does, however, heed his instruction, pulling out his most ripped pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Architecture school has all but demolished his social life, so he’s going to take every chance he gets at one this time around.

 

Seokmin’s taking more time to get ready; Mingyu uses the extra time to  style his hair a little and smudge eyeliner along his waterline, a trick Junhui had taught him. When Seokmin finally comes out of his room, he doesn’t miss the way Seokmin’s gaze darts down to the exposed skin of his thighs. 1 for Mingyu, 0 for Seokmin.

 

By the time they get to Jeonghan’s place, the party appears to be in full swing. It also looks like he’s invited a good half of both Grand Valley and Saint Helena, people jostling them as they try to make their way through the hallway and to the kitchen. They’re stopped several times along the way by people greeting Seokmin and everything rushes over Mingyu in a haze of names and pounding bass.

 

The kitchen is surprisingly empty, the only occupants being two girls making out against a countertop.

 

“Get a room, Nayeon,” Seokmin calls out fondly.

 

Nayeon, the shorter brunette, pulls away from the girl she’s kissing, only to stick her tongue out at Seokmin.

 

“I see you’ve got some eye candy yourself,” Nayeon leers.

 

Seokmin turns back to Mingyu, blushing furiously. It’s cute seeing him so flustered because it’s usually Mingyu tripping over himself. Mingyu 2, Seokmin 0.

 

“Can I get you something to drink?”

 

“Anything that’s not beer?” Mingyu says, hesitantly.

 

Seokmin’s face brightens at this. “You hate beer?”

 

Mingyu shrugs. “It’s disgusting when you could have a lychee martini, ya know?”

 

Seokmin nods, procuring a bottle of Bacardi Mojito mix seemingly out of nowhere.

 

“Mojito mix isn’t a lychee martini,” Seokmin says, pouring the drink into two cups. “But it’s better than beer.”

 

“Cheers.” Seokmin hands Mingyu a cup, clinking against it with his own.

 

Mingyu takes a sip and makes a face, smiling when Seokmin laughs at him.

 

“C’mon, let’s go meet people.”

 

Seokmin drags him along, and Mingyu follows blindly. It’s interesting seeing Seokmin like this because really, he’s relearning the person Seokmin is. The Seokmin he knew was reserved and shy, but this Seokmin is ill at ease around people, greeting people as they walk past and setting up lunch dates like an actual adult. It’s visible even in the way he carries himself, with his posture and an easy smile on his face.

 

Mingyu feels like a slouching fool in comparison to the bright way Seokmin pulls people in. He’s even more surprised when Jeonghan kisses Seokmin on the cheek, gives Mingyu an appraising look and waggles his eyebrows at Seokmin.

 

“Seokmin’s been trying to keep me away from you,” Jeonghan says. “I think I know why now.”

 

Mingyu takes one look at Seokmin, whose smiling sheepishly and rocking on the balls of his feet. He’s happy to find that some things, like Seokmin’s actions when he’s found guilty, hasn’t changed at all.

 

“Thank you?” Mingyu hedges.

 

Jeonghan gives him a smile he can’t quite decipher. “Enjoy yourselves, boys.”

 

Mingyu nods, sidetracked when Soonyoung quite literally pounces on him, yelling in his ear about some dance competition. Junhui is by his side, grinning fondly at him, and Mingyu realizes Soonyoung’s riding the high of a dance battle. That, or body shots, because well. Soonyoung can be found anywhere body shots are happening, something Junhui attributes to his exhibitionistic tendencies. Mingyu did _not_ want to know.  

 

Seokmin’s disappeared into the crowd, which prompts Soonyoung to try and  drag him onto the dance floor. One of the perks of being super tall is that he can see over the heads of most of the guests, easily locating Seokmin even in the dim lighting.

 

“Please save me!” Mingyu yells at Seokmin.

 

Seokmin’s laughing, and he appears to be tugging someone along with him, the only thing visible being a head of blonde hair.

 

“Why don’t you go grind on Junhui instead?” Seokmin says, pushing Soonyoung to Junhui’s direction.

 

“Well,” Soonyoung says, staring at Junhui and licking his lips. Junhui stares back, just as intensely, brows raised in a question. “Don’t mind if I do.”

 

Mingyu groans; sometimes it’s hard to reconcile the Soonyoung who ate sand in the sandboxes with the horndog in front of him.

 

“Want you to meet someone, Gyu-ie!” Seokmin yells.

 

“This is Minghao! Myungho!” Mingyu feels his heart stop when he looks at Minghao. How is it that Seokmin’s surrounded by beautiful men everywhere he goes?

 

“He’s my—” Seokmin hesitates. “Friend. Fuck buddy. Fuck friend.”

 

Mingyu’s first reaction is to laugh, and his second is to take a huge gulp of his drink, spluttering when the alcohol burns its way down his throat. His third, however, is to quash down whatever bubbling feelings he has for Seokmin. Of course Seokmin’s seeing someone.

 

“You okay?” Minghao asks. He’s smiling, but his brows are raised in concern and Mingyu nods.

 

If Seokmin has a rugged charm, then Minghao is more delicate, although _nothing_ about the way he holds himself says _anything_ about being delicate. The contrast of Minghao and Seokmin standing together though, Seokmin’s arm thrown casually across Minghao’s slimmer build, has Mingyu’s throat feeling parched.

 

So he’s a horny young adult. It happens.

 

Mingyu’s nervous when Seokmin ends up shepherding them to an empty couch, instead of heading to the makeshift dance floor or the corner where everyone’s playing drinking games. Mingyu’s good at that kind of stuff; the kind that involves faux bravado. He’s not so good at being in close proximity with men he finds attractive.

 

The last time he’d been drunk around a boy he found handsome, he had ended up confessing to Jihoon and being gently let down. Three weeks later, Jihoon was dating Wonwoo.

 

As it turns out, there’s not much to worry about. Seokmin babbles, as he is wont to do, and Mingyu and Minghao look on with fondness. The one time Mingyu makes eye contact with Minghao, the blonde seems embarrassed to be caught staring so intently at Seokmin. There’s also something else in Minghao’s gaze that makes Mingyu feel hot and bothered, even if it’s not directed at him.

 

That, and jealousy coursing through his veins in a steady, heady thrum. He’s jealous, but it’s tempered by a burning curiosity to pick Minghao apart; Mingyu’s always been competitive. He wants to know what Minghao has that he doesn’t.

 

They play a few games of arm wrestling; Mingyu wins. Seokmin feels up his bicep. It’s the highlight of his day. They drink some more. Minghao starts analyzing everyone’s outfit, and calls Mingyu a thot. Mingyu throws a flyaway pretzel at him. Seokmin, to both Mingyu and Minghao’s incredulity, eats it.

 

“What,” he says, eyes wide. “It’s food.”

 

“That’s gross, Seoku,” Minghao scrunches his nose in disgust.

 

“Talk to me when you live with Mingyu.” Seokmin says sagely.

 

Minghao turns to him with a raised eyebrow and Mingyu protests.

 

“I do more cleaning than you! You had a moulding tangerine peel on your study table.”

 

Minghao bursts into laughter, and there’s a phoenix soaring in the caverns of Mingyu’s chest at that sound. It feels precious, almost, even if they’ve only known each other for a few hours. The night bubbles down to this: Mingyu greedily basking in everything these two boys offer him, jealousy ignored in favor of attention.

 

This is also the way Seokmin’s got his hand resting on Mingyu’s knee, absentmindedly thumbing the exposed skin. The way Mingyu has to lean across Seokmin to hear the gentle cadence of Minghao’s voice. The music from the speakers is loud, but they have their own pocket of the world on Jeonghan’s loveseat.

 

There’s a lot they talk about, from school to boyfriends to dream homes to ideal last meal on Earth. Seokmin acts as a buffer between Minghao and Mingyu but in all honesty, he doesn’t _need_ to. They’re both scarily alike, except Minghao appears a lot more put together than Mingyu is. Mingyu’s not sure how many hours pass with the three of them on that couch, splitting a bottle of wine, Seokmin’s hand heavy on his thigh and Minghao’s voice echoing in his head.

 

At some point of the night, Minghao excuses himself to the bathroom and Seokmin turns to him with a pout.

 

“Can you stay away from the apartment for a while? It’s been a while since Minghao and I, ya know,” Seokmin says apologetically.

 

Mingyu feels like his blood’s been turned to ice in his veins. He smiles stiffly.

 

“Yeah sure, I’ll keep myself occupied.”

 

“Thanks, Gyu!” Seokmin claps a hand down on his shoulder. “I’ll text you when the coast is clear.”

 

Mingyu nods morosely, smiling at Minghao when he returns from the toilet. Seokmin whispers furiously in Minghao’s ear and they leave, Minghao waving at Mingyu. Of course Seokmin has a fuck buddy, of course Seokmin’s fuck buddy is equally as handsome as he is and of course all it does is send Mingyu into a spiral of confusion.

 

It’s easy to ignore that Minghao’s the one who gets to take Seokmin home when Mingyu’s sitting next to him, but it’s harder when he’s alone at a party where most of the attendants are interested in each other. Mingyu supposes he’d have an easier time processing the nuances of Minghao and Seokmin’s relationship if he weren’t the slightest bit attracted to the both of them but here’s the truth: Mingyu’s a bit foolish when it comes to Seokmin, and Minghao makes him -- well he's not sure what it is, but it's _something_.

 

Instead of dwelling on that, on Seokmin and Minghao being unattainable, Mingyu divests his energy into socializing and drinking. Without Seokmin’s dizzying presence by his side, Mingyu’s having an easier time approaching people for conversation. Perhaps that way he could resolve the way his stomach keeps rolling under his ribcage.

 

Mingyu’s not very sure how he makes it home, although he thinks it’s partially the efforts of Soonyoung and Junhui. He vaguely remembers playing several rounds of beer pong, badly, and then attempting to outdrink Choi Seungcheol, Jeonghan’s boyfriend. _That_ had been a mistake because Seungcheol was rumoured to have the tolerance of an ox. Mingyu can confirm that, with the way his head is spinning and everything is spinning out of focus.

 

All he knows now is that he’s raising a hand to pound on the apartment door, which promptly opens up. Mingyu trips and Seokmin steadies him, grinning at Mingyu.

 

“Oh fuck,” Mingyu moans, tripping over the carpet. Seokmin chuckles and there’s something about the steady weight of him supporting Mingyu that has him thinking.

 

Seokmin’s shorter than Mingyu, by a little, so Mingyu had always dismissed him as small but — he’s less small now and more solid. Stable. _Strong._

 

“I’ve never seen you this shitfaced before.” Mingyu doesn’t have to look to know Seokmin’s grinning his face off.

 

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

 

Seokmin leads him to his bed, and helps him get his socks off his feet. Minghao hovers in the doorway, clearly just woken up and in a sweater that is way too oversized to be his, which means it must belong to Seokmin.

 

“Do you need help with your pants?” Seokmin asks.

 

Mingyu nods. He’s past the point of shame.

 

“Okay. Hao, could you get him a glass of water and some aspirin?” Seokmin asks. “Actually, just get a whole jug of water.”

 

He doesn’t hear what Minghao says in response but there’s a rustle of movement and Seokmin’s hands are on the button of his jeans. In any _other_ situation, Mingyu would be freaking out. He _is_ freaking out. But then Seokmin gets the button undone and the zip down and he’s tapping at Mingyu’s hips to help him shimmy out of his jeans. Mingyu feels the slightest bit like a teenager again.

 

“Drink,” Minghao all but thrusts the cup under his nose. “Pace yourself.”

 

Mingyu gulps down the water, occasionally stealing glances at Seokmin and Minghao, who both have almost identical expressions of concern. Seokmin refills his cup when he’s done and hands him the aspirin.

 

“Sleep well,” Seokmin says.

 

Mingyu nods, swallowing the aspirin with another gulp of water, groaning when he lies down. Seokmin chuckles again, running his hand through Mingyu’s hair very quickly. Mingyu’s eyes flutter shut at the touch.

 

“Trash can is by your bed if you’re gonna puke.” Minghao says, closing the door behind him and Seokmin.

 

Mingyu wakes up a few hours later with the mother of all hangovers, one of his worst since he’d started college. He can smell breakfast and hear Seokmin singing some song, punctuated by another voice. Mingyu pads to the kitchen, not the least bit surprised when Minghao’s at the table, digging into a stack of pancakes. Of course Seokmin cooks pancakes for his fuck buddy the next morning.

 

Minghao takes one look at him and snorts, grinning. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

 

“It’s not that late,” Mingyu whines.

 

He’s more surprised that Minghao’s acknowledging him in any way. Of course Minghao would be cute _and_ nice. The whole scene is domestic— domestic and _jarring_ and not at all what Mingyu expected. If anything, without the buzz of alcohol, he can identify the telltale fluttering in his chest as feelings for both Seokmin _and_ Minghao.

 

**↠☾ ☽↞**

 

If you wrote down a list of defining characteristics of Lee Seokmin, it would involve the fact that he was a romantic. _Is_ a romantic. Not quite sure if he’s _still_ a romantic. Somewhere along the line of being in college, his perception of romance had been altered. Okay, it wasn’t necessarily that it was altered but rather, he began to notice the way people would look at him. The way _boys_ would look at him.

 

He didn’t think much of it until he was at his first college party, hooking up with then college junior Yoon Jeonghan, both of them completely sober. He’d dated Jeonghan for almost a year, but then Jeonghan and Seungcheol had resolved whatever pent up sexual tension they had for each other and Seokmin was single again. Occasionally Jeonghan would invite him to be a third in his and Seungcheol’s relationships.

 

That was probably the point at which Seokmin realized he liked the thrill of the rush a  bit more than he did when he had the steady comfort of a boyfriend. The revelation started a string of poor hookup decisions, even if he had some of the best sex in his life (courtesy of Jung Jaehyun) and two passable relationships (thank you Kim Hanbin and Mark Lee). Surprisingly enough Jaehyun had been the reason Mark had broken up with Seokmin.

 

Minghao had seemed like a good rebound and somewhere along the line, Minghao had stopped being a rebound. They’ve been hooking up for three months at this point; Seokmin had sworn off sex with anyone else and now, he was pretty sure he was half in love with Minghao and rediscovering what romance means. This is _probably_ why rules for casual hookups exist.

 

Which leads him to this exact moment, Seokmin half sprawled across the couch and watching Parks and Rec as Minghao lets himself into the apartment with a spare key. Seokmin’s not sure what Minghao having a spare key to the apartment says about him.

 

"Hey sexy," Minghao says, nudging Seokmin to make space for him.

 

Seokmin blinks rapidly several times, watching Minghao's grin turn from teasing to embarassed, the tips of his ears turning red.

 

"You know." Minghao hums. "When people call you sexy, you're supposed to say thank you."

 

Seokmin snorts at that, resting his head on Minghao's shoulder.

 

"Thank you," he says, with all the dignity of a man pretending he isn't smitten.

 

One month they’re fuck buddies and a little bit down the line, Seokmin’s toeing the line of casual and being absolutely in love. In fact, Seokmin’s pretty sure he’d be completely head over heels for Minghao if it wasn’t for Mingyu.

 

Seungcheol’s voice is nagging at back of his head, telling him he has a heart made for love.

 

"No problem," Minghao says, lips brushing Seokmin's ear.

 

He flinches before hitting Minghao's chest, Minghao laughing at him. Like this, unrestrained, this is his favourite version of Minghao.

 

"Please don't try to jack me off in the living room," Seokmin pleads.

 

Minghao raises an eyebrow, a sly grin on his face. "Thought you were into exhibitionism, babe."

 

Seokmin snorts, hitting Minghao on the chest again.

 

"I don't wanna traumatize Mingyu, I feel like he’s so tense around me."

 

"Maybe he just thinks you're really hot. I know I do. Or, you know, the two of you aren't exactly in high school anymore, and you're just different people?"

 

Seokmin hums, distracted thanks to Minghao kissing down his neck.

 

"If you wanna fuck, let me just tell Mingyu not to come home for at least two hours."

 

Minghao grins against his neck and Seokmin shivers at the feeling of Minghao's teeth against his neck.

 

"Fuck it, I'm sending that text," Seokmin shoots off a quick text to Mingyu before pushing Minghao in the direction of his room, pulling his shirt off as he goes.

 

He pushes Minghao onto the bed, who suddenly seems overcome by bashfulness, grinning widely at Seokmin.

 

"Get your shirt off, pretty boy," Seokmin demands.

 

Minghao raises an eyebrow. "Who are you calling pretty, when you're right here?"

 

Seokmin giggles, ducking his head even as his hands fumble with the button on his jeans. Minghao's smiling too, and Seokmin feels a little bit like a teenager about to have his first sexual experience. It’s just the way Minghao treats him that makes him feel the slightest bit reckless, the slightest bit eager, all too willing to give himself away.

 

He clambers onto the bed, knees bracketing Minghao's hips even as Minghao sits up to kiss him, hands tight on Seokmin's hip. The angle is a bit of a strain on Seokmin’s neck, since he has to duck down to kiss Minghao properly. But then Minghao is nipping at his lower lip and stroking his fingers up Seokmin’s back and Seokmin is moaning, physical discomfort forgotten. Minghao manages to flip their positions as he pecks Seokmin's lips repeatedly, still grinning.

 

"Can I ride you?" Minghao asks between kisses, casually as if he didn't just drop a bomb on Seokmin.

 

Minghao riding him is always a religious experience, even before Seokmin realized the feeling he experiences around Minghao is less being dickmatized and more being in love.

 

"Uh, sure," he mumbles intelligently, breaking away to nip at Minghao's throat. "Can I leave a mark?"

 

Minghao hums, and Seokmin frowns. "Needa clear answer, Hao."

 

"Yes, yes," Minghao says, almost exasperated.

 

Seokmin grins up at him, Minghao smiles right back at him, face open and tender and he lets himself believe maybe, just maybe, he has a chance with Minghao. Instead of dwelling on that, Seokmin bites down on the juncture where Minghao's throat meets his shoulder, relishing the groan that Minghao lets out. Seokmin had found out, early on, that Minghao liked biting and being bitten.

 

The very first time he'd brought it up, Minghao had turned a brilliant shade of red, batting Seokmin's shoulder and hissing at him to shut up. Minghao groans again when Seokmin continues nipping along his chest, swirling his tongue around a nipple, Minghao’s hands tight in his hair.

 

Seokmin taps Minghao’s hips and he gets the hint, shuffling off him as Seokmin leans over to grab a condom and lube from his bedside table. When he turns back Minghao’s already kicked his briefs off, straddling Seokmin, simultaneously kissing him and rolling his hips down.

 

“Fuck,” Seokmin groans. “Can’t believe I’m fucking the hottest boy in this building right now.”

 

There’s a huff of laughter in his ear and Seokmin relaxes into a smile, fumbling with the lube.

 

“Better believe it,” Minghao murmurs.

 

There are many things that one has to remember about Minghao, and one of those things is just how tender he can be during sex sometimes. Seokmin’s had his fair share of Minghao bending him over a flat surface, and fucking him with sharp thrusts or stringing out Seokmin’s orgasm for so long he starts crying but there’s also this.

 

This being Minghao: open and unhurried and smiling at Seokmin like they don’t have to worry about Mingyu coming back.

 

Seokmin coats his fingers in lube and attempts to warm it up, placing the tube somewhere off to the side. He slides two of his fingers over the tight muscle of Minghao’s hole, gasping when Minghao’s nails dig into his shoulder. It’s been awhile since he’d fucked Minghao and he’s basking in the small gasps he lets out as Seokmin keeps teasing him.

 

Seokmin slides one of his fingers in when Minghao starts whining, wincing when Minghao’s nails dig deeper into Seokmin’s back. One time, he’d compared fucking Minghao to dealing with a house cat. The next time they fucked, Minghao had edged him until he was crying and Seokmin had no complains about it. Minghao’s hot and tight around Seokmin’s fingers, the both of them letting out groans. Seokmin can feel the way Minghao’s thigh is flexing in his grip, the stutter of his breath as he slides his finger in and out until Minghao is rocking back into his hand.

 

“Another,” Minghao slurs, demands, lips parted.

 

Seokmin slides another finger in, grinning when Minghao moans, low and broken.

 

“Like getting fucked, Hao?”

 

“You’re not even fucking me,” Minghao mumbles. Seokmin counts the breathy quality of Minghao’s voice a victory.

 

Seokmin grins, curling his fingers and feeling very much overwhelmed when Minghao moans again, rocking back into his hand. Experimentally, Seokmin scissors his fingers and Minghao whimpers, inhaling sharply.

 

“Fuck I love your fingers,” Minghao says.

 

“Just my fingers?” Seokmin asks, just the slightest bit cocky, just the slightest bit eager to see Minghao falling apart.

 

He curls his fingers again and Minghao’s hands scrabble at Seokmin’s back, hips jerking towards his fingers. _Bingo._ Seokmin massages Minghao’s prostate with the tips of his fingers, Minghao swearing under his breath when he abruptly pulls away. Seokmin adds more lube to his fingers and slides a third finger in carefully, looking up at Minghao to check for signs of discomfort.

 

What he finds instead is Minghao with his lips bitten red, bangs falling into his eyes, jaw tense, holding himself back from moaning. In a move to prove himself, or validate his ego, or something, Seokmin ducks his head down to swirl his tongue around the tip of Minghao’s cock. It hurts his neck but it’s worth seeing the way Minghao jerks his hips, throws his head back, swearing in Mandarin. Seokmin smirks, pulling away, fucking Minghao with his fingers slightly faster, alternating between licking Minghao’s left and right nipple. It garners another bout of swearing and Minghao’s hands in his hair, tugging.

 

For the briefest moment Seokmin pictures Mingyu’s solid weight in his lap, his bigger hands tugging his hair and he moans, eyes fluttering shut.

 

“Fuck me,” Minghao demands. It’s enough to jolt him back to reality.

 

Seokmin nods, shoving his underwear down his legs and kicking them off, fumbling with the condom wrapper before rolling it over his cock. He hisses for a moment, sensitive, and Minghao’s grin has a mischievous edge to it. Seokmin knows it’s going to be embarrassingly short when Minghao squirts more lube onto his hands and strokes over Seokmin’s cock several times. He makes an embarrassingly loud noise, knocking his head against the headboard.

 

Minghao laughs at him, and Seokmin laughs too.

 

“You good?” Minghao asks, ducking down to kiss Seokmin.

 

He nods, and Minghao positions himself, hips lined up over Seokmin’s cock, grinning at the way Seokmin has one hand splayed across his back. Minghao guides the head of Seokmin’s cock against his hole, sinking down with a punched out groan. Seokmin tenses up; Minghao feels so good around him, always does.

 

And then Seokmin’s imagining Mingyu again, head thrown back and body gleaming with sweat. It’s not with conscious effort. Seokmin gasps, snapping his hips up to bury himself in Minghao. Minghao groans, but it’s more pleased than pained, even as Minghao finds purchase on Seokmin’s shoulder and digs. Their groans mix together and Minghao kisses Seokmin, open mouthed and messy, more tongue than anything else.

 

When they pull apart, Minghao leans back, head tipped back, the line of his body so elegant that for a moment, Seokmin feels like he’s kneeling at the feet of a statue carved by Michelangelo or something, reverence thrumming in his veins.

 

Minghao is rocking his hips back and forth in slow movements and Seokmin wraps his fingers around Minghao’s cock, his grip loose and his strokes messy.

 

“How you feeling?”

 

“Like I’m gonna come across your face if you keep doing that,” Minghao mutters, eyes closed and still rocking in his lap.

 

Seokmin preens. “You know I like that.”

 

“Shut up,” Minghao mumbles, bracing his weight on his knees, lifting his hips up a little and dropping back down.

 

Seokmin shuts up at that, grunting instead. Minghao picks up a rhythm of bouncing on his cock and Seokmin grips his waist, trying to make it easier for Minghao. Minghao lifts his hips until just the head of his cock is inside him, moaning when he slides down. Seokmin’s hand flex uselessly at Minghao’s waist, his hips snapping up.

 

“Work with me,” Minghao says.

 

He nods, eager to please as ever, braces his legs on the bed and uses it as leverage to snap his hips up even as Minghao rocks down. Minghao’s thighs are trembling where Seokmin’s gripping onto them, and he gives up on holding his body up, dropping down so that they’re chest to chest, Seokmin rocking his hips into Minghao. Minghao’s moaning is unrestrained as he mouths messily at Seokmin’s jaw, occasionally turning his head to kiss the corner of Seokmin’s mouth.

 

Seokmin knows the blonde is close when he starts whining, and like any good friend, emphasis on _fuck buddy,_ he wraps a hand around Minghao’s cock.

 

It takes a few slower, careful thrusts with perfectly timed strokes of Seokmin’s wrist before Minghao jerks, coming all over Seokmin’s hand, biting down on Seokmin’s shoulder. Minghao sounds like a broken record of Seokmin’s name and he likes the way it stokes the fire in him, urges him to stroke Minghao’s cock faster.

 

Seokmin’s orgasm hits him out of nowhere with the way Minghao’s fluttering around him and the shock of pain from his biting. Seokmin fucks him through the aftershocks, riding his own orgasm even as Minghao rocks his hips weakly. They do that until Minghao’s whining, hitting Seokmin’s chest with a loud smack.

 

“Fuck you,” Seokmin grumbles as Minghao carefully slips off Seokmin’s cock.

 

“You just did,” Minghao grins. “Really good too. Wanna shower?”

 

“Sure. You go ahead first, I’ll join you.”

 

Minghao smiles down at him and pecks his forehead, hopping out of the bed. Seokmin doesn’t want to get out of the bed but he feels sticky and Minghao’s come is rapidly drying on his hand and his stomach. He sighs and knots the condom, wiping his hand on his discarded shirt. He strips the sheets off the bed, changing them because Minghao is a creature of habit and   _will_ want to take a nap after their shower. Seokmin dumps their clothes in the hamper before joining Minghao in the bathroom.

 

This is where the lines blur. _Always._ Where things get a touch too intimate.

 

That, and the voice of Charles Boyle in his head telling him that the most intimate thing you can do is shampoo your girlfriend’s hair.

 

It’s exactly what they end up doing; Minghao under the spray of the shower and Seokmin shampooing his hair. He’s not surprised when Minghao pushes him against the wall, drops to his knees and promptly gives Seokmin a blowjob before helping him shampoo his own hair. They _truly_ have broken every rule that exists to keep fuck buddies from falling in love.

 

Seokmin’s not sure he’s relieved or upset Mingyu’s not back when they finally get out of the bathroom.

 

“Can you ask Mingyu to get food?” Minghao pouts, drying himself off and digging through Seokmin’s drawers for spare clothes.

 

There’s another broken rule, the fact that Seokmin has Minghao’s clothes.

 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll text him.”

 

Seokmin sends off a quick text to Mingyu, asking him to pick something up on his way home. He gets a reply that consists mostly of pizza emojis and smiles at his phone, heart fluttering in his chest.

 

"Hey," Seokmin asks after a moment. "Wanna get high?"

 

"Could've asked before you fucked me," Minghao grumbles, sitting up.

 

Seokmin simply smiles at him. "And have you fall asleep?"

 

"Fuck you, it was _one_ time."

 

Seokmin sticks his tongue out, fumbling in his drawers and pulling out a joint with a sound of victory. A little more fumbling yields him a lighter and Minghao snatches it from Seokmin, despite the noise of protest. Seokmin holds the joint up to his mouth and Minghao lights it up.

 

Whatever remaining tension he had, not that there was much to begin with, bleeds out of Seokmin the moment he takes his first hit. He takes another hit, inhaling more smoke and nudges his lips against Minghao’s mouth. Minghao rolls his eyes and parts his lips obligingly, Seokmin pushing the smoke into his mouth.

 

“Gimme the joint, stop cheating me from my high,” Minghao grumbles.

 

Seokmin laughs and hands it over, watching Minghao as he smokes. There are many moments involving Minghao that make Seokmin wish he had a film camera in his hands all the time. Right now, with Minghao’s hair tousled and head tilted back, an absolute picture of relaxation, Seokmin’s hands itch. Thankfully, GudakCam exists. Technology and its many miracles. His gallery is filled with a lot of Minghao, the dogs he sees on his walk from apartment to campus and back, and a surprising amount of Mingyu. It’s not _that_ surprising, if Seokmin _really_ thinks about it. Which he won’t.

 

There’s a switch that turns on in Minghao the moment he sees a camera; the way he rearranges his limbs to make his pose look seemingly effortless, the smoldering gaze he throws the camera. In another life, maybe even this one, Minghao would’ve made a great model.

 

Seokmin takes several shots even as Minghao keeps puffing on the joint. Minghao passes the joint back to him when Seokmin sets his phone down, watching him with an undecipherable gaze. It makes Seokmin feel like he’s being pinned down.

 

“Something on my face?” He chuckles nervously.

 

Minghao shifts, smiling gently at him. “Nah, just think you’re really handsome.”

 

Seokmin blushes, and they continue like that, trading the joint back and forth, occasionally shotgunning.

 

“Do you think Mingyu is hot?” Seokmin asks out of the blue.

 

“Why? Interested in a threesome?” Minghao jokes.

 

Seokmin swallows; Minghao’s closer to the truth than he realizes.

 

“I do think he’s hot, if you must know.” He continues.

 

Seokmin would say more except Minghao pulls up one of his playlists, effectively ending the conversation. Seokmin’s not complaining when the playlist goes from Childish Gambino to Frank Ocean to SZA. Minghao really is every Scorpio stereotype, and then some.

 

They snub the joint at the point where Seokmin’s starting to feel a little bit dazed and breathless, a little bit more hungry and tactile.

 

“Cuddle me,” Minghao demands.

 

And because Seokmin is a weak, _weak_ man, he does. They drift off, Seokmin waking up only when he hears the loud bang of the door opening and the sound of Mingyu’s swearing drifting down the hallway. Seokmin gently extricates himself from Minghao’s limbs, going out to see Mingyu.

 

Seokmin greets him, chuckling when Mingyu jumps and swears.

 

"That's my shirt," Mingyu chokes out, hovering by the kitchen table.

 

Seokmin looks down, absentmindedly noting that the shirt _is_ , in fact, too big for him.

 

"Ah," Seokmin says intelligently. He’d stolen it from the towel rack.

 

Mingyu snorts, before shooting a small smile at him. It looses up the knots in his chest even more, makes him feel like reaching out and pulling Mingyu into his arms.

 

"You're pretty high aren't you?" Mingyu chuckles, albeit nervously, setting down the pizza box on the table.

 

"So-so," Seokmin hums. It’s less being high and more being high _and_ having just woken up.

 

“Minghao sleeping?” Mingyu asks.

 

Seokmin nods again, walking towards where Mingyu’s washing dishes at the sink, draping himself over Mingyu’s back. He’s always more tactile when he’s just woken up, and he’s relaxed enough that he’s not overthinking whatever this is. Just two roommates and casual intimacy. He feels the way Mingyu stiffens then relaxes, and Seokmin nuzzles his face into Mingyu’s shirt.

 

“So warm.”

 

“Thank you?”

 

“You should be thankful,” Seokmin grumbles. “S’like you’re a heat thing. You and Minghao.”

 

Mingyu laughs and the sound is rich, flows over Seokmin and warms him up.

 

“Go wake Hao up, Seok. You gotta eat,”

 

“Why do you care about Minghao so much anyway?” Seokmin whinges. He sounds pathetic even to his own ears.

 

Mingyu turns in his arms, and now Seokmin’s far too close to his face. Mingyu’s lips are right in front of him, all he has to do is lean forward. He licks his lips nervously, and something flits across Mingyu’s face. In fact, Mingyu’s face is cycling through a range of expressions, from surprise, to curiosity, to concern. It then settles on something like understanding, and Seokmin likes how Mingyu’s face does that.

 

Open. Warm. The smallest smile on his face. Sparkling eyes. Every emotion displayed.

 

“You care about Minghao, so I do too,” Mingyu says, simply.

 

Mingyu saying it makes the truth feel simple; Seokmin cares for Minghao, likes him even. All he has to do is tell Minghao. Instead, something in his gut twists, because if he really did like Minghao, he wouldn’t be thinking about Mingyu, wouldn’t be thinking about what it’s like to see Mingyu and Minghao kiss, to navigate the spaces they leave behind.

 

“We’re just fucking,” Seokmin pulls away from Mingyu. “That’s it. Just casual sex. Keeps me from getting heartbroken.”

 

Seokmin smiles at Mingyu, but even he can feel how stiff it is. Mingyu has his face scrunched up in the way that means he _wants_ to argue, but is just too polite to do so. Seokmin lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Mingyu turns back to the dishes.

 

Let’s go back to the lists of defining characteristics of Lee Seokmin. Somewhere after romantic, and clumsy, before impulsive, is afraid of coming to terms with his emotions. He’ll keep pretending he’s not already in love with Minghao, and halfway down the path to being in love with Mingyu.

 

**↠☾ ☽↞**

 

At first, Minghao wasn’t comfortable with Seokmin’s roommate. It’s easy to feel threatened by Mingyu, because it seems like everything comes to him with ease. That, and the fact that Seokmin was never subtle when he found someone attractive. Minghao didn’t like the way Seokmin kept sneaking glances at Mingyu, or the number of times he’d hear _Mingyu this, Mingyu that_. Maybe because Minghao would find his attention drawn to these things, like the flex of Mingyu’s muscles when he worked on his plans, the way he licked his perpetually chapped lips, the way his whole face would twist up when he disagreed with something.

 

Mingyu’s a bit like Seokmin, in the way they both wear their hearts on their sleeve. In different fashions, maybe, but they wore their emotions with pride.

The truth? The real reason Minghao isn’t comfortable around Mingyu? The truth is that Minghao’s initial feelings regarding Seokmin and Mingyu involved an unhealthy amount of _jealousy._

 

Jealousy implied that Seokmin and Minghao had a relationship that was more than casual, that Minghao had _feelings_ for Seokmin. Sure, they were exclusively fucking each other, but they went on dates with people that _weren’t_ each other. At least, Minghao has.

 

He goes to every date faithfully, spends the entire date worrying over Seokmin, calls Seokmin to tell him how badly the date went and never calls his date back.

 

The thing about Mingyu however, is that he’s particularly stubborn, good at carving a space for himself if he wants to. They go from casually greeting each other whenever Mingyu returns to find Minghao in the apartment to working on their respective fashion and architecture assignments. Without Seokmin. When Seokmin had found out about it, he’d spent the whole day pouting.

 

And Seokmin pouting is a powerful force, because both Mingyu and Minghao had spent the rest of the week trying to make up to him. They had practiced Seokmin's lines with him, picking him up when theatre rehearsals ran late, making meals for him when rehearsals ran late.

 

Three months ago, when Seokmin had introduced Minghao to Mingyu, he'd have never guessed that their lives would be intertwined to this level. Three months ago, Minghao would have never guessed that Mingyu would be equally magnetized by Seokmin as Minghao was. Then again, six months ago, Minghao hadn’t guessed that he would be exclusively fucking Lee Seokmin.

 

Which brought them here: planet Seokmin, his two moons Minghao and Mingyu, and Friday night rituals.

 

Friday night-movie night was something Mingyu and Seokmin started, but something that Minghao had wormed his way into. It started out with Minghao being frustrated because he was horny and Seokmin was _"busy”_ and ends — no, not ends. _Begins_ , Really Begins, capitalisation and all, with Minghao adding his shows to Seokmin and Mingyu's Netflix list.

 

Pretty romantic, if your measure of romanticism was similar to Jake Peralta's.

 

"It's my turn to pick!" Mingyu calls out from the kitchen, where he's busy stirring something on the stove.

 

Minghao yells out a muffled okay, muffled because he's half on Seokmin's lap, kissing him furiously.

 

"Really, guys? No adult supervision and you become horny teenagers?"

 

"No," Seokmin says, breaking away from Minghao. "We're just two bros sitting on a couch with no space between them cause they love fucking their homies."

 

Both Mingyu and Minghao groan, while Seokmin grins, looking pretty pleased at himself.

 

"Do _not_ butcher Vines like that," Minghao says, getting off Seokmin's lap. "You killed my boner."

 

"I can bring it back to life." Seokmin snorts and waggles his eyebrows; he looks silly but Minghao's heart is doing this thing where it enlarges to twice its size and performs a tap dance routine.

 

Mingyu sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, placing two plates of carbonara in front of them before getting his own.

 

Both Seokmin and Minghao _ooh_ , Seokmin going as far as to kiss his fingers like an Italian chef he saw on a cooking show once. Minghao takes a picture for his Instagram story. Their actions have Mingyu flushing a pretty pick, his eyes curved in obvious delight, failing to contain it.

 

Minghao's surprised when Mingyu worms his way in the space between Seokmin and Minghao, turning to Seokmin with his brows raised. Mingyu doesn't even realize the monumental step forward he’s taken, because it's usually Seokmin cuddled up between Mingyu and Minghao, Mingyu a reluctant participant.

 

"I vote we watch the Babysitter," Mingyu says, scrolling through the selection of movies.

 

"I second your suggestion."

 

Minghao scoffs at Seokmin. "Of course you would."

 

Seokmin reaches across Mingyu to poke Minghao in his ribs and the three of them laugh. It’s cliche to say the world stopped, but it feels less like the world stopping and more like a switch being flipped in Minghao’s brain that makes him take everything about them in.

 

It’s hard to miss the open adoration on Mingyu’s face, a mix of exasperated and tender, the exuberance on Seokmin’s face, the way his eyes are barely visible because they’re scrunched up and the way the background noises filter in. It feels like everything in Minghao’s perception slows down _just_ enough for him to take this in before resuming at the speed of life.

 

They start up the movie, and Minghao knows Seokmin well enough to know there’s a silent competition between the two of them to cuddle Mingyu. Mingyu, for most part, doesn’t fidget away like he has in the past but rather, stiffens up every time Minghao or Seokmin casually touch him. By the time it ends, Seokmin’s head is pillowed on Mingyu’s thigh and Minghao’s head is resting on Mingyu’s chest, his arm around Minghao’s shoulder. It’s so comfortable that Minghao doesn’t wanna leave; he’d trade sex with Seokmin for cuddling the two of them any day.

 

Cuddling isn’t a sign of commitment or something greater. Cuddling can be casual, and that’s what this is. One point where three people meet, held back by their various inhibitions.

 

As soon as the credits start rolling, Seokmin’s off to his room, Mingyu’s grin dimming a little.

 

“Is this where you kick me out?” Mingyu whines.

 

Minghao snorts, turns his head to bury his face in Mingyu’s side, pulling away when he feels the way Mingyu stiffens, the way the action felt so natural and knowing he’s blushing.

 

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah.” He repeats, louder.

 

Mingyu offers him a small smile, getting up and grabbing his overnight bag from where it sits by the door, not making any move to leave.

 

“Go have fun doing whatever it is you do with Soonyoung.”

 

“Do I _need_ to leave?” Mingyu whines. “I’ll be so quiet you won’t know I’m here, and I’ll plug in my earphones. I really like you, Hao.”

 

Minghao’s heart races at the casual confession, even if it’s not the confession he _wants._

 

"Goodbye Mingyu. I like you, but I _love_ passionately fucking Seokmin's thighs even more."

 

Mingyu's expression isn't one of disgust but rather one of open, unabashed curiosity. That, and the smallest pout. It makes him look like a kicked puppy, mostly because all six feet god knows what of Mingyu’s being _is_ a puppy.

 

It makes Minghao feel just the _slightest_ bit guilty.

 

“Can’t I stay?” Mingyu pleads. Minghao’s ready to cave, and not because he _wants_ Mingyu to hear the way Seokmin begs for him.

 

“And have you hear how loud I get? And _then_ have to see you _after_ that? I think the fuck not!” Seokmin yells from his room.

 

Minghao gives Mingyu an apologetic smile. “You heard him.”

 

“He’s a demanding lover, isn’t he?” Mingyu’s shaking his head, smiling fondly.

 

Minghao swallows.

 

“He’s a brat, that’s what he is.” His voice doesn’t crack, surprisingly enough.

 

Mingyu turns his smile to Minghao, and there’s something about the gentle look in his eyes that makes Minghao _want_. It’s the same gentleness that Seokmin radiates when he has a puppy in his arms, or when he’s particularly content.

 

“I’ll be back in two hours. Or maybe not, I think Junhui hyung is working a night shift and Soonyoung will demand the company.”

 

“Stay safe.”

 

“Have fun,” Mingyu says, sticking his tongue out.

 

Minghao watches him until he disappears down the flight of stairs.

 

If he’s a little bit more tender with Seokmin than he usually is, Seokmin doesn’t say anything about it. If Mingyu’s face flashes behind Minghao’s eyelids every time he kisses Seokmin, then he buries it deep inside him.

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed this fic, please do leave comments and/or kudos! i can be found on [twitter](https://twitter.com/gyuseokhao)and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/circlemidnight). unfortunately, i'm on a very tight schedule this semester, so i foresee the next chapter of this fic will only be posted in march. however, i _will_ try my best to update by the end of february. if you got here, thank you so much for reading this!


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